North Country Mom

“Oh, yes. But just long enough to pack. They moved to be near their son. The community didn’t want the store to close because it was such a good tourist stop. Since the owners wanted to leave, they and the community worked out a no-interest loan for me to buy the store.” She fiddled with an arrangement on a side table. “A couple of friends staked me and Lucy helped me fill out government grant forms. And here I am.” She held out her arms. “This is my third year running Tansi.”

“Good for you.” Jack kept staring at her for a long time. Alicia shifted under that intense stare, relieved when he checked his watch. “Giselle will kill me. I told her I’d be back with the truck to pick up our stuff. That was ages ago. See you.”

Alicia nodded and held a smile in place until the door closed behind him. Then she let out a sigh and pushed away all tantalizing thoughts of the handsome policeman as she continued unpacking her treasures in between clients.

When her last customer had left, she went into the back room and started the coffeemaker. She glanced at the wall clock and sent a quiet prayer heavenward for Nancy and Harold Runningbear. They’d taught her to tell time and do basic addition and subtraction. Without them...she wouldn’t think about that. But even Nancy hadn’t been able to teach her to read or write beyond the most basic level. Alicia was sure it was because there was something wrong with her.

If only...

Alicia shook off the nagging thoughts. More than anyone, she knew how pointless it was to wish the past had never happened.

Focusing her mind on her work, she noticed it was almost three o’clock. Eli, a boy from Lives Under Construction who helped out at Tansi after school, would arrive in about twenty minutes. Alicia needed to decide what she wanted on the tags for her new items so he could write them up, which meant she’d have to think of another excuse for not doing it herself. Being illiterate was bad enough, but keeping it a secret was even harder. And she had to keep it under wraps, or else she’d risk becoming the town’s laughingstock or activate worry that she might not be able to repay the community loan.

She regretted now that she’d let someone else do her homework in school, that she’d allowed herself to believe that quitting school to live on the streets was an option. When Nancy and Harold had taken her in, they’d helped her see she could start over, make something of her life. But Mr. Parcet’s attack had made returning to the special literacy classes impossible. She hadn’t been able to go back there, couldn’t be anywhere near him or any other man without panicking. Then she’d learned she was pregnant.

How ironic that she still thought of him as Mr., a respect unworthy of him. But to think of him otherwise was to admit he had a personal part in her life. Alicia couldn’t allow that. Nor could she again relive those terror-filled moments.

She wasn’t that dumb fifteen-year-old girl anymore. Look how far she’d come in ten years. She had her own business to run. She had a life. She was stronger and more determined than ever. She could figure out a way to protect her child, too. Somehow.

Alicia picked up the picture Lucy Clow had left on her desk. Sweet Lucy did the books for Alicia’s business but she also ran the store whenever Alicia was away. Though Lucy and her husband, Hector, were retired missionaries to the Inuit, they were by no means retired. Lucy acted as part-time church secretary, frequently helped out at Lives Under Construction and stepped in anywhere else in Churchill where she saw a need.

In Alicia, Lucy obviously saw a need. Though Alicia had never confessed, Lucy seemed to know that Alicia couldn’t read much and she made allowances. One of those allowances was the pictures she left for Alicia, to apprise her of something. This one seemed to be saying that Jim Deerfoot had more antler carvings to sell. That was good because Alicia’s stock was low.

Lucy’s presence at Tansi yesterday meant that everything in the store had been thoroughly dusted, the sales records updated and the storeroom organized in extreme detail. Tomorrow Lucy would stop by and explain the accounts, what had sold, what was in the bank. It was her assistance that kept Tansi in the black. Lucy was like a revered grandmother in Alicia’s heart. Alicia adored the sprightly woman whose faith in God held strong and firm in the face of hardship.

Lucy had even made the upstairs apartment glow. The woman loved to clean and organize. She’d done such a good job while Alicia was away that all she needed was a few groceries. She’d just finished making a mental list when Eli sauntered in.

“Hey,” she greeted. “How are you?”

“Awesome.” Eli’s attention immediately honed in on the items she’d brought with her. “These rock,” he said, bending to inspect each one. “Like totally sick.”

“Sick?” Alarmed, Alicia stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Sick, as in great, Alicia,” he said in a droll tone.

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you like them.” Once he’d stored his backpack, she explained what she wanted him to create for the tags on each item. “Make them special, okay? You’re a genius when it comes to writing these tags,” she praised, “so I know you’ll do a totally sick job.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. “I have to get groceries. My fridge is empty.”

“Go ahead. Let this genius get to work.” Eli flexed his fingers, pulled out his label supplies, then stopped. “Did you know there’s a new girl staying at the hotel? She looks like a cover model.”

“I met her on the train. Her name is Giselle Campbell. She moved here with her father, Jack, who bought the Northern Lights Lodge,” Alicia explained. “Laurel is her aunt.”

“Think she’ll join our youth choir?” Eli asked in an awestruck voice. “We could use some more girls, especially ones who look like her.”

“You could always ask her.” She picked up her purse.

“Alicia?”

“Yes?” She studied the boy, noting the change of tone in his voice.

“When’s your next haircutting day? I think it’s time for me to spruce up,” Eli said.

“Soon.” She hid her smile as she slid the strap of her bag over one shoulder. Clearly Eli wanted to make an impression on the newcomer. She turned around to leave but had to stop suddenly because Jack stood in front of her. “Oh, hello. Again.”

“Hi.” His gaze moved from her to Eli and back. “You do haircutting?”

“Only for the boys at Lives, and only if they want me to,” she said, slightly embarrassed by his intense scrutiny. “A friend of mine in Vancouver taught me the basics. She’s a hairdresser and runs a homeless shelter. She gives haircuts to anyone who wants one. I don’t have my license, but since a hairdresser only comes to Churchill every three or four months, I help out if someone asks. Laurel asked.”

“I see.” Were those piercing blue eyes more intense?

“Can I help you?” she asked when the silence stretched out too long.

“You’re busy.” Jack was acting very odd, as if he had something on his mind but was afraid to say it.

“Just going for groceries,” Alicia explained. “Oh, this is Eli Long. He works for me. Eli, this is Mr. Campbell, from the lodge. Laurel’s brother and Giselle’s father,” she added.

“Hi.” Eli waved to Jack, then, as if he too sensed Jack’s tension, got to work.

“Do you need something?” Alicia asked again.

“Maybe,” Jack muttered. He shuffled his amazing shoes then looked at her. “Yes, please,” he said in a firm voice. “I need your help.”

“Sure.” Alicia nodded. “With what?”

“With whom,” he corrected. His gaze slid to Eli. “Giselle. I, er, did something—”

“Why don’t we walk while you tell me?” she said, realizing that he didn’t want to speak in front of Eli. She stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind them. As Jack walked beside her down the street, her pulse began to thrum at his closeness. “Well?”

“How about I treat you to coffee?”

“If you add a doughnut, I’ll agree,” she teased.

But Jack didn’t smile. He simply nodded and began walking toward Common Grounds, a coffee shop down the street from Alicia’s store. Sensing he needed a few moments to collect his thoughts, she caught up, saying nothing until they were seated with their coffee and doughnuts in front of them.

Jack’s silence unsettled her. She needed to get him talking. A quick glance at the clock told her she’d need to hurry him a bit. Today was early closing at the Northern Store because of inventory taking. Grocery shopping and a decent dinner might have to wait till tomorrow.

Finally, without looking up at her, Jack spoke.

“Giselle’s run away.”

Chapter Four

Jack felt like a fool.

He’d been a father for eleven years, yet the small, dark-haired beauty who had called him dad until recently still had the ability to tie him in knots. He saw Alicia struggling not to smile and glared at her.

“It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is,” she said. “This is Churchill, Jack. There’s no place to run. Unless she got on the train before it left?” Her smile faded as she studied him with concern.